


Run Boy Run

by CaffieneKitty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Chases, Community: watsons_woes, Gen, POV John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffieneKitty/pseuds/CaffieneKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nights you're the pursuer, other nights you're the pursued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run Boy Run

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for watsons_woes July Writing Prompt #29: Drabble, drabble, toil and scribble. Title from a song by Woodkid.  
>  _Originally posted on Livejournal July 29, 2013_

_Left or right,_ John pelted along dim-lit alley, swift footfalls and cruel laughter cacophonous behind him. The alley's T-junction end loomed. _Bloody hell, left or right!_

He didn't have Sherlock's map of London in his head. He barely remembered which streets this alley connected. A flicker of blue light brightened the right side wall. Cursing, John swung wide right.

 _Anytime now._ He ran past another fire escape ladder. Not up. Not today. _In fact, right now'd be good._

Something spun past his head, a bottle, smashing on the brick wall. More laughter. Too close. He sped up. _Now would be very very good._

Between buildings to his left, John caught a glimpse of blue and yellow battenburg. _Oh brilliant. About bloody time._

Ahead the alley ended with an abrupt left turn. The jeering voices and running feet behind him were far too close. John caromed off the brick wall into the left turn, then out between the police vehicles forming the cordon. His pursuers spewed forth from the alley straight into the arms of the waiting Met, too intent on pursuit to stop.

John, huffing in the alley opposite safely behind the blue-white flashing cordon, enjoyed the view. "Gotcha."

Sherlock emerged from the darkness. "I expected you twenty seconds earlier. I thought they might have caught you."

"Yeah? Well. Next time," John panted, "you can be the bait."


End file.
